


Hiccups

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [76]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x2 missing scene, After the knighting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: As the group chats by the fire, awaiting the long night, Jaime is struck by a severe bout of hiccups. Brienne puts him out of his misery.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Many ways to say I love you [76]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234904
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	Hiccups

**Author's Note:**

> Something that struck me when I suffered a bout today. Thank you for reading and enjoy :)

“It’s—” Jaime struggled, another loud hiccup punctuating his sentence “—just—not going—away.” 

“Hold your breath,” Tyrion repeated the instruction he’d been continuously issuing for the last few minutes. “Or try breathing deeply—”

“I’m—done—” Frustration and helplessness writ large on his face, Jaime got up and paced the hall, as if doing that might get rid of his predicament. “Done—trying—all that.”

Podrick entered with a jug of water which Brienne immediately grabbed from him and poured some of it in Jaime’s empty glass. “Drink it,” she advised, recalling the measure her Septa had taken once when she had been hit by a severe bout. “Fast. In a single gulp if you can.”

Jaime did as told and put the glass away, then stood still for a second, waiting. And every one—Tyrion, Podrick and Brienne, watched him carefully, hoping this was the end of his ordeal. After about a minute had passed, Jaime heaved a sigh of relief. “Finally, it’s gone—” he turned to Brienne, beaming “—Lady Brienne, I could kiss you.”

“I did nothing,” she mumbled, blushing deeply, although she knew full well his expression had no literal implication to it, it was mere gratitude and nothing else. “It was Podrick, actually,” she added in an attempt to divert her embarrassment. “So—” 

“— _h_ _ic—_ ” 

“Fuck, no!” Tyrion groaned, leaving his chair to walk around aimlessly like his brother. “The war could begin any time and if his condition doesn’t improve—” 

“I could go check with the maester,” Pod offered. “Perhaps he can suggest something—”

“I’m not—ill—Pod,” Jaime hiccuped, loud and as bad as it had been some time back. “Don’t—need a—maester.”

“There’s one other thing we can try,” Tyrion pondered aloud, still pacing like a distressed lion. Approaching Brienne, he lowered his tone so only she could hear him. “A fright—or maybe a shock.” His eyes shrunk as if he were dwelling deeper into exploring the only remedy they had left. “But I can’t think of any, can’t come up with something that can—”

“I love you, Jaime.”

Relief and trepidation was a strange combination of emotions—Brienne only realized it now. She had blurted out the words with the singular intention of bringing him comfort, and it appeared as if it worked, but Jaime was not the only one to bear the brunt of this _shock_. Her proclamation had drawn complete silence except the crackling of the fire and three pairs of eyes on her. Jaime’s—she dared not meet, the prospect of his reaction unnerving her. Podrick’s bore a look of approval, not unlike the one he had for her when Jaime had offered to knight her. Tyrion’s had a smile that wasn’t on his lips yet.

For about five minutes, no one spoke, nor did the nasty bout return to bother Jaime again. “I must leave now,” she announced, getting up when it looked like he had been cured of it. “It’s quite late and—”

“Ser Brienne, if I might have a word,” Jaime stopped her, and she lingered by her chair, still unable to face him. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Tyrion give her a slight nod of reassurance. “Come on, Podrick.” He made his way to the entrance, gesturing to the young man to join him. “Why don’t you regale me for the rest of the night with everything you faced on your travels with Ser Brienne?”

The two men left, and Brienne, not sure what to expect, lurked by her chair. Her mind began conjuring explanations and ways to lie to him that this was no more than a hasty means to get rid of his problem.

“My lady.” She had her back to him, but she could sense him right behind her, the metal of his armour touching hers. “Would you do me the kindness of looking at me?”

She turned, then plucking up every drop of courage she had, looked into the handsome face. “I didn’t know what else to say,” she started, her mind jumping into defence. “None of what we tried was working and no one else could come up with anything shocking or frightening enough to—”

“I would definitely refrain from referring to it as a shock, wench.” He touched her arm, and even through the tough metallic cover, she could perceive his touch—it almost felt like his bare fingers were on her skin. “And far from a frightening prospect, I must say, it is. A pleasant revelation, I would prefer to call it.”

“It was no revelation,” she hastily countered, wishing she had more of the drink to ease this out. “It—” 

He trailed his hand down her arm to grasp her fingers, and she ran out of luck, for despite the ale she had consumed, her throat went dry, hindering her speech. “You said you love me, Brienne—”

“I only did it to give you a jolt—”

“—and you called me _Jaime._ ”

She mentally kicked herself for her impulsive outburst. “I’m sorry if I startled you, Ser Jaime, I didn’t mean to—”

“—tell me the truth or fall in love with me?” he inquired, determined eyes, set deep into hers, daring her to speak past the truth. “—or forego the annoying formality of preceding my name with my title every single time? Which of these did you not mean to do, my lady?”

“All of them,” she softly admitted, crumbling, knowing her game was up. “But believe me, my intention, tonight, was only to cure you—”

“—of this hiccup—” he leaned, pausing when his lips mere inches away from hers “—and the one I have endured for a good part of my life.” 

She wanted to say something—to reply, but he came closer, his beard tickling her skin, the tingling it evoked traveling down her spine to somewhere deep within her. When he exhaled, her breathing picked up, his hand in hers and his mouth tantalisingly close to hers, distracting her, sending her thoughts astray. 

“I didn’t mean to fall for you either, Brienne,” he confessed in a hushed tone. “But it happened. And I’m glad it did.”

Eyes never lied—and definitely not his—a pair full of so much love she had never seen before. Her heart began to sing. She wanted to believe, to live, to dream about a life beyond Sansa. “Ser Jaime—”

“ _Jaime_ , if you please,” he corrected her, his voice shaking, eyes shining. “I’ve been dying to hear you say it for years, wench, so please do not deprive me of that pleasure—” He brought their hands to her heart. “I always thought Cersei was the beginning of my life and the end—to die in her arms, my biggest dream for years,” he said, a slight tinge of regret lacing his words. “Little did I know that the journey in-between would matter much more—that it would change everything.” He squeezed her hand, pressing his chest to it. “You made _me,_ Brienne.”

Her eyes moistening, Brienne shook her head. “Deep down you were always a man of honour, Jaime. It took you most of your life and all you went through to break free of the shackles that made you the Kingslayer.”

Their hands clasped together between them, Jaime touched her lips with his. “It was a certain Maid of Tarth who cured me of the worst hiccup in my life.”


End file.
